LONDON -- "It is one law for the Moroccans and another for the Gibraltarians," says Amin Benhamoun.
After 26 years of work on the Rock and around 57,000 pounds in tax and national insurance payments, Amin does not receive child benefit for his school-age son, Elias.
If he loses his job, he could be deported.
Amin lives with his wife and three children at the top of a dingy stairwell with broken wooden stairs. It reeks of disrepair and negligent landlords. The family is too big for the flat but unlike Gibraltarian families, the Benhamouns have no entitlement to government subsidized housing.
Amin Benhamoun is one of the thousands of Moroccans who came to Gibraltar in the prime of life, only to find decades later that they had no right to stay.
Many are now asking whether they would be better off if Britain handed Gibraltar back to Spain.
According to Mohammed Sasri, a security guard at the football stadium, "Whether a Moroccan works in continuous employment for 10, 20 or 100 years and pays all his contributions, he still only has the right to 13 weeks’ unemployment benefit. After that, nothing. And after 6 months if he is not back in employment he is deportable." Sasri spends all his free time advocating on behalf of his community and trying to bring the most severe cases to the attention of Gibraltar's Chief Minister Peter Caruana.
Back in 1969 Gibraltar welcomed Moroccans with open arms. Spain had closed its borders with Gibraltar and evacuated its nationals in pursuit of a sovereignty claims. To prevent economic collapse Britain looked to Morocco for a substitute workforce. Advertisements in Rabat attracted 5,000 Moroccan workers to service the British Army base. But now that British troops have almost disappeared, the Gibraltarian government is finding more glamorous ways to buoy the economy through tourism and financial services. The Moroccans are no longer essential to the economy. In fact they detract from the new glossy image the Gibraltarian government is trying to project with its marina-side restaurants where businessmen can entertain clients and tourists can look sophisticated.
The Benhamoun's flat is near to Gibraltar's Main Street, exaggeratedly British with its old-style ER embossed red post boxes and Dixon of Dock Green bobbies. The only thing that does not feel British is the blue sky and the heat of the sun in winter. Turn your back on Main Street's branch of Mothercare and Morocco is only 12 miles away. Spain is a 20 minute walk in the other direction.
Most of the Moroccan women in Main Street came to join their husbands but discovered that family reunion was not allowed. A loophole then allowed their husbands to find them a job, often as cleaners for British Army wives stationed on the Rock. Seventeen years ago, Amin Benhamoun found a job for his wife, Essen, in the laundry of the Caleta Palace Hotel. A year later she was pregnant. The doctor gave her a certificate for her baby's expected date of birth. The next day, policemen followed her home and threatened her with deportation unless she left Gibraltar before that date. She says that the doctor must have phoned the police. Essen gave birth in Morocco and then returned. If her child Elias had been born on the Rock, he could have been British.
When Elias was old enough to go to school, his parents came up against another barrier: No state school would accept a child who did not have permission to be in Gibraltar, even though both his parents were working legally. So they had to fork out 635 pounds a term to send their son to a private convent school.
A few years ago Elias was given permission to stay in Gibraltar on condition that both his parents were employed. He started to attend the local state school. Like British 15-year-old school children he is studying for his GCSEs but unlike his classmates who are going on a school trip to Aqua Park in Malaga, he will be staying at home. He is not allowed to cross the frontier into Spain without a visa and he cannot get a visa in Gibraltar. "My son is mature but it hurts him. He can't go with his friends and that makes him different, " his father, Amin, confides.
Because the Moroccans in Gibraltar have no official right to bring their wives and children to Gibraltar, there are large numbers of single men. The government runs two hostels for these men, one of which is called "Buena Vista". It is an ex-army barracks at the top of a steep, gravely slope beyond a checkpoint barrier with a 24-hour guard who keeps his eye on who goes in and out. Buena Vista is on the outskirts of the promontory and is becoming a luxury suburb for rich Gibraltarians. It has a stunning view over the Strait of Gibraltar and on a clear day you can see the Rif mountains. The converted barracks, a remnant of British military presence on the Rock, is home to 200 Moroccans. Each floor has 3 tight corridors of cubicles with pasteboard partitions and faded floral curtains for privacy. At the end of the corridor is a narrow kitchen with a television balanced on a high shelf on the wall. There are no doors so the men who work irregular shifts have to try and sleep through the noise of cooking, chatting and the television blaring. On the balcony draped with drying washing, Tariq, who has lived in Buena Vista hostel ever since it opened, admits that it is difficult to live like this, but originally the government had planned to put two men in each cubicle. At least he has his own. He also has a dormitory with a view: From the window he can see Tetuan, the town where he was born.
Most "llanitos", as Gibraltarians are known, believe that there is a chronic housing shortage on the Rock. Speaking Spanish with a broad Andalusian accent, one llanito explained that Gibraltar is only 6.5 square kilometers and cannot accommodate the wives and children of the Moroccans: "While we would like to give everyone their rights, there just isn't space." It is true that Gibraltar is small but the withdrawal of British troops in recent years did not just create job losses, it greatly improved the housing situation. There is a huge housing development on the reclaimed land of the port and much of the former army housing has been handed over to the Gibraltarian government. Many of the Moroccans who rent from private landlords say that they know of numerous vacant properties, larger and in better condition than the cramped, damp accommodation they live in. The only problem is that no one wants to rent to them.
Mohammed Sasri knows such stories well. It is impossible to talk to him for more than three minutes at a time without being interrupted by his mobile phone ringing. It is like a telephone help line: One woman who has worked as a cleaner for 27 years has a heart condition and can no longer work. She has no income. A 59-year-old man who has been in Gibraltar since 1969, with the same employer suffered a stroke which has left him paralyzed. The government is making a discretionary payment of 28 pounds a week which is too little for him to live on. They are now offering him a "voluntary repatriation package", that is, a few thousand pounds if he goes back to Morocco. Even the cafe owner where Sasri is sitting comes over to explain what a disadvantage he is at: He cannot compete with Gibraltarian restaurants because they can get cheap, good produce from across the border in Spain but he cannot. Sasri explains that the Gibraltarian government thinks that Britain should take responsibility for the Moroccans and the British government think it is Gibraltar's problem. "They pass the buck when it comes to the Moroccans," he says.
Last year Gibraltarians voted in a referendum to decide whether they would accept joint sovereignty with Spain. While most Moroccans on the Rock were not eligible to vote, some feel that they would have more rights under Spanish sovereignty. Others are not so sure. Jose Maria Aznar's government has tightened immigration controls and introduced new powers to arrest and deport migrants.
But whichever season arrives, from strawberries to olives, there is a huge shortage of labor there. Spain needs migrant workers like the British government needed them in Gibraltar — and Spain also wants them to be disposable.
"We are like a can of coke. You drink the Coke, you have had the Coke, you throw away the can," says Sasri.
